


should this be

by SomeRainMustFall



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeRainMustFall/pseuds/SomeRainMustFall
Summary: "Okay," Gil whispers.And he lets Malcolm go.For so many years, he's been letting Malcolm go.He wonders what would happen if, just once, he didn't.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56
Collections: Prodigal Son Pride Bingo





	should this be

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! Well, the last day. Anyway, have some gay shit. It's _never_ too late for gay shit.

_Should this be the last thing I_ _see_

_I want you to know it's enough for me_

_'Cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need_

_I'm so in love_

[Tenerife Sea, Ed Sheeran](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rg6puSP9ks)

**x**

Finally closing the files on his computer, leaning back and removing the glasses from his face, Gil turns his attention to the boy sitting comfortably in the chair closest to the window, one leg bouncing, chin resting against his hand as he looks outside.

“What’s up, kid?” Gil asks, and Malcolm glances at him before taking a deep breath, fingers of his other hand drumming a rhythm out against the wooden armrest as the rain picks up, beating against the glass.

“I’m sad,” Malcolm admits quietly. 

Gil frowns. “That’s not what I like to hear. What’s wrong?”

Malcolm shrugs a shoulder. “I’m always sad,” he eventually replies, slumping a little further down. He never looks away from the window, though; Gil has noticed how much he likes the rain, always wandering his way over to where he can watch it, or going for a walk in it.

“Not always.” Gil stands up, comes to sit in the chair beside him. 

“No…” Malcolm shifts, almost uncomfortably, and looks at Gil out of the corner of his eyes. It's become a habit. Gil does it, too. Looking when they know they shouldn't.

“Sunshine makes you happy,” he offers. 

Malcolm nods. His fingers still on the armrest. 

“Licorice,” Gil says, pursing his lips as he thinks. “Lime candy. Lollipops. Cases. Running off without backup… _again..._ ” 

Malcolm dips his head down, hiding a smile. “Sorry.” 

“I know you are,” Gil says. “What else?”

Malcolm glances over at him, crystalline eyes darting down over him just once before he looks outside again. “The rain.”

“I’ve noticed. Why’s that?”

“Makes me feel alive.” Malcolm’s hand slides off the side of the chair, hangs between them, and Gil’s fingers twitch as he looks down at it. “Feeling it on my skin, just…” 

He takes a deep, longing breath, closing his eyes. The serenity on his face is something Gil wishes he saw more often. 

“Then let’s walk,” Gil says, standing. Malcolm looks up at him, frowning in his confusion.

“Walk?”

“Yes.” Gil extends his hand, and Malcolm bites his lip as he looks at it. “Come on. Walk with me.” 

“Where?”

Gil shrugs. It makes Malcolm smile, finally, and he takes Gil’s hand, getting to his feet. Gil squeezes it gently, then opens the door for him, leads him right out of the precinct and onto the stairs.

He turns, in the rain before Malcolm is, and watches Malcolm take his first step forward into it. His face brightens as he tilts it up, smiling, and Gil feels a grin of his own take his lips as his heart soars. 

“Better?” he asks, and Malcolm nods. “Good. Come on. I didn’t get myself soaked for no reason.” 

Malcolm comes down to join him, and they walk together down the empty sidewalk. Malcolm keeps tilting his head back, raindrops pattering over his closed lids, and Gil gently grasps the back of his neck.

Malcolm’s mouth parts, just a bit, and he opens his eyes, looking up at him. Something in his gaze makes Gil _stagger,_ pulling his hand away, and Malcolm jerks his head down and stops walking. 

Gil pauses a few steps in front of him. He doesn’t turn back right away, because he’s afraid. 

He’s been afraid for a long time.

“Gil,” Malcolm murmurs, just loud enough to be heard.

Gil takes a breath, and then faces Malcolm. He plans to pretend it didn’t happen at all, but Malcolm is suddenly _much_ too close to him, and he can’t stop the startled hiss of air that escapes between his teeth as he recoils. 

“Don't—" Malcolm says, reaching out.

" _Don't,_ " Gil echoes, desperately, and Malcolm drops his hand. 

They're silent for a moment. Thunder rolls far in the distance. There's unspoken understanding between them, as there has been every time it gets to this point, where they need to both step back from the edge before they fall over into something unknown. 

Except this time, Malcolm doesn't move back. He takes another step forward, teetering on the cliff, and looks up at Gil.

"You," he says.

Gil doesn't dare to breathe. Just grits out, "What?"

"You make me happy."

God, he'd been worried that's what Malcolm was going to say. 

"Yeah…" Gil murmurs, stiffly. "Y-you...make me happy too, kid. But…"

"I know," Malcolm says. He lowers his head, looking worse than he had in Gil's office, looking like Gil just broke his heart _again_. 

He knows he did. He has to. They can't…

"We can't…" 

"I _know._ " Malcolm combs his hair out of his face, looking down the street. "I should...go. Home. I'm getting cold." 

Gil wants to wrap him up in his arms and never let go, give him his body heat, give him _everything._ Malcolm couldn't possibly know how much. 

"Do you want me to—"

"No," Malcolm says. "No. It's fine. I should...be alone."

"Okay," Gil whispers. 

And he lets Malcolm go.

For so many years, he's been letting Malcolm go.

He wonders what would happen if, just once, he didn't. Wonders what would have happened if he had caressed Malcolm's neck again, took his hand, and done _a_ _nything_ to make him stay.

Malcolm crosses a street, nearly to the corner he'll turn, where Gil won't be able to watch him anymore, won't have to fight the urge to go after him.

And then there's the screeching of tires skidding on wet pavement, and a car going too fast swerves towards the sidewalk. It knocks over the street sign, and then the engine revs and it speeds off.

Gil can't see Malcolm anymore.

He can't see Malcolm.

He can't—

" _Malcolm!_ " 

He runs, as fast as his feet can take him. Ahead of him, he sees Malcolm crumpled over himself, on his knees, and terror seizes his lungs as he drops to the ground beside him, wrapping his arms around him.

"Bright! Bright, what's wrong? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Talk to me!" 

" _No,_ " Malcolm manages. He's shaking violently, and he turns his body to the side to sit down, and Gil expects to see blood over his face, matting his hair, ripped clothing.

But there's nothing. He's okay. He's still alive. 

"It didn't hit me," Malcolm finally laughs, but it turns into a hiccuping sob. He shudders and grasps at Gil's sleeve. "S-scared the hell out of me."

"Oh, kid." Gil brings him into a tight hug, and Malcolm presses his face into Gil's shoulder, trying to steady his breathing, his body. 

"I thought…" Gil can't continue. He can't say how he'd thought he was going to find Malcolm dead, another hit and run victim. He can't say how he'd expected to eventually find the one behind the wheel and jail them but that, like always, justice would never really be served, because he was going to have a hole in his heart for the rest of his life.

"Sorry," Malcolm sniffles, like he thinks it was because of him. He always blames himself, always has. It breaks Gil down every time.

"It's _not_ your fault," Gil assures him. "Can you stand?" 

"Yeah," Malcolm murmurs, but while Gil manages to help him to his feet, he's wobbling noticeably, and Gil holds him tight around the waist.

“Hey now...do you need to go to the hospital?”

Malcolm shakes his head. “I need…” He trails off, and then latches onto him again.

He cares about Malcolm so much. Too much. It hurts, aches deep in him every time Malcolm is hurt, every time he nearly loses him.

He could have died. Again. Not from a case, not a criminal; just from walking down the street. Something he does every day, every night he can't sleep.

His heart is pounding still. He knows Malcolm can hear it, _feel_ it even, as he cups the back of Malcolm’s neck and pulls him close.

"I was thinking about you," Malcolm says, tilting his head back. "I thought I was going to—and all I could think about was you." He closes his eyes, and rain falls down his cheeks like tears. "I'm always thinking about you, Gil. Always."

Gil touches Malcolm's cheek, glides his hand to cup it, his thumb rubbing just under Malcolm's eye.

"Me too," he murmurs. "About you. I thought...I lost you. Again. Goddamn it, Bright…"

Malcolm smiles, just a little. He looks so stupidly beautiful, he—

Malcolm doesn't let him finish the thought. He surges up on his tiptoes, grasping onto Gil's shoulders to pull him down, and kisses him.

Gil gasps. Malcolm pulls back, just a bit, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He licks his lips, waiting for a response.

Gil means to pull away. 

Instead he holds Malcolm's face between both hands and kisses him again.

Malcolm melts into him. He presses close, whimpering softly, and Gil makes some pathetically desperate sound of his own, closing his eyes.

It feels better than he'd thought it would, than he ever could have imagined. Malcolm's lips are even softer than in the dreams he pretends he doesn't have, tasting of licorice and lust and love and _Malcolm._

All that exists is Malcolm.

Gil wouldn't mind if it stayed so for the rest of his life.

"Gil…" Malcolm mumbles in his mouth, and Gil holds him closer. He never wants to let go. Malcolm's arms wrap tight around him, and euphoria settles in every nerve of Gil's body, zings down to his fingertips. Rain still patters against their heads, down their faces, and Gil has never understood Malcolm's like for it more.

He feels alive, for the first time in a long time.

They break the kiss finally, gasping for air. Malcolm pushes his face into Gil's chest and breathes in, clutching at him like he never plans to let go.

Gil should be horrified how much he hopes Malcolm never does. 

"Bright…" he whispers. Malcolm nuzzles him, and then looks up with those damn eyes Gil's never been able to resist, that he'd seen really start to look at him differently around college and never recovered from.

He'll never recover from _this._

But then, he's not sure he wants to.

"Please," Malcolm says, and Gil groans. 

"What do you _want_ from me, kid?"

"Everything," Malcolm replies. “I want everything."

“It’s—it’s not _right—”_

"It is." Malcolm closes his eyes, breathing in deep. "God, Gil. It is. It's so right. Nothing has ever been so right.” 

Gil rests his cheek atop Malcolm's head, trying to gather his thoughts. He needs to argue. He can’t give in, not so easily. But God, he’s been fighting so damn long already. He’s so tired...he just wants…

But he can’t _have..._

“I love you, Gil,” Malcolm whispers, and Gil’s breath hitches.

“Bright…”

“No,” Malcolm says. “I don’t—I don’t care if you don’t. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. I love you, I’ve _loved_ you, and if—if you don’t, that’s—” He sniffles softly. “It’s okay, I just need—”

Gil can’t let him think that. He can’t let Malcolm think that he’s not all Gil wants, so he makes a choice.

He grasps Malcolm’s chin and pulls it up, pressing another kiss to his lips. He cups Malcolm’s face, and Malcolm tangles his fingers in Gil’s hair, letting out something between a giggle and a sob, and Gil finally says, "I love you."

Malcolm’s eyes light up brighter than Gil’s ever seen them, his smile the sweetest thing Gil’s ever known.

“Yeah?” he asks, and Gil can’t help his own little smile as Malcolm kisses him again, and again. “You love me? You do?”

“More than anything,” Gil whispers. “Bright, I love you too much. I’d be—God, I’d be completely lost without you.”

Malcolm presses his palms to Gil’s cheeks, and now he _is_ crying. Gil might be, too. Oh, he definitely is, and it doesn’t matter. 

“I love you,” Malcolm repeats. “Kiss me again. Never stop."

“We have to talk,” Gil says, tilting his chin up to prevent himself from doing just that. “We have to...to really talk. About this, about...us, if...if you want there to be an us."

"I want," Malcolm says. "I do."

Gil bites his lip. Malcolm mirrors it, just as nervously. This is new. This is a moment neither of them ever thought things would come to, and now that it has, they're left to figure out what to do afterwards.

"I...I want to know you’re thinking clearly. That _I_ am. That it isn’t just the shock.”

Malcolm hums, taking one of Gil’s hands and lacing their fingers together. “It’s not. You know it’s not." 

“I know,” Gil breathes, stroking through his hair, and then squeezes his eyes shut. "Oh, kid..."

Malcolm looks afraid, for just a moment. "W-what?"

Gil shakes his head, and says, "Your mother is going to kill me.” 

Malcolm throws his head back and laughs, and Gil falls in love again, just as he does every time he sees him. Gil squeezes his hand, and brings it up to his lips, and Malcolm’s face flushes pink. 

He's so beautiful. So damn beautiful. Gil wants to tell him every day for the rest of his life.

And if their talk goes as he thinks it will, as Malcolm's eyes _promise_ it will, that's exactly what he's going to do.

“Kiss me _please,_ ” Malcolm finally says, breathless. "All that later. Not yet."

Gil’s been telling him no for so long.

He doesn’t this time. He doesn't tell him no, and he doesn't let him leave. He never will again.

This time, he dips Malcolm back and kisses him for all the world to see.


End file.
